Why'd I Have to Be So Brave?
by wehaveasituation
Summary: Deathly Hallows twist. When at the Malfoy Manor, Ron sacrifices his own safety to prevent Bellatrix from Apparating with the trio and Dobby. Ron/Hermione, but not romantically centered. Rated M for some violence.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! I'm new to fanfiction, so this is not only my first Harry Potter fic, but my first story. Give it a chance, and give me some feedback so I know whether to continue or not. :) Thanks for taking the time to visit!

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, unfortunately.

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He had no time to think. The chaos emitting from every corner of this room may have impaired his focus on the smaller details in this predicament, but the adrenaline rushing through Ronald Weasley's veins left his senses heightened and very much aware. His decision had been composed of extreme loyalty to his friends and the instinctive desire to ensure their survival over his. As he stood in the middle of the rambunctious room along the side of Harry, Hermione, Dobby, and Griphook, Ron's main objective was to escape as soon and as painlessly as possible. He knew from their plotting in the cellar that Dobby was to Disapparate them from the Malfoy Manor to Shell Cottage, and therefore all of the friends were clinging to each other desperately. Dobby was going to turn on the spot at any moment, shifting the group from inescapable peril to a sanctuary of solitude. Ron's eyes darted around the room apprehensively as he waited for the approaching moment, his eyes continuously surveying the nearly unconscious Hermione.

But the chance of escape rushed away out of his mind as he felt something grip his other arm. Ron had a split-second to act, having felt Bellatrix Lestrange's fingers wrapped themselves firmly around his forearm. She intended to join the group as they Disapparated, arriving wherever Dobby was going to take them. All of them would end up at Shell Cottage – including a Death Eater.

Ron could not let this happen. That would be the death of the entire group. He had no time to consider the danger his decision would put him in. He only felt an instinctive compassion for his friends, a feeling that would force him to put them first. In mere seconds Dobby would lead the group into blackness, and in mere seconds Voldemort himself would arrive at the Manor in search of Harry. Bellatrix would be able to relay their location through her Dark Mark, making the appearance to Shell Cottage pointless. Not only would his friends be in danger then, but so would his brother and Fleur. Ron knew what he had to do. As soon as he felt Bellatrix's grip tighten, Ron let go of Hermione.

His friends disappeared right before his eyes, vanishing into the suffocating blackness that was associated with Apparating, leaving him very much alone and defenseless in the parlor of Malfoy Manor. He glanced around the room quickly, seeing Greyback still glowering behind a chair, the Malfoys huddled together by the fireplace, and Bellatrix still retaining the grip on his arm. All stared at the now vacant place in the middle of the room, all of their mouths in a silent 'o' of shock. They knew that the Dark Lord would unleash an incredible wrath upon them for losing Harry Potter yet again.

Ron's spine went cold when he found Bellatrix's eyes sliding over to his face, an unspeakable anger replacing the fear of her Lord's wrath. That anger was directed at Ron, surely for letting go of his friends to hinder her chances of recapturing them. Before Ron could lift his wand and stutter a poorly pronounced spell, Bellatrix had dug her nails into his skin and thrown him against the wall. The hand that had not been gripping his arm claimed his wrist, smashing it against the wall until he dropped his wand.

"Pick it up, Narcissa!" She bellowed, using her forearm to apply pressure across Ron's throat. Through his fear he vaguely noted how strong she was. "Where did they go?!" She demanded of him, digging her nails further into his skin. Ron was sure that she was drawing blood by now.

"Telling you would defeat the whole purpose of my staying behind, now, wouldn't it?" he retorted, his anger toward her fueling his courage. He had heard her torturing Hermione. There was no way he'd ever cower before her.

"He's coming," Lucius announced softly, any volume from his vocal chords becoming repressed from the unbelievable fear creeping into everyone's hearts. Narcissa was tearing up, the hand that held Ron's wand shaking as she attempted to keep it pointed threateningly.

"Draco, go get Pettigrew," she murmured hurriedly, probably to get her son out of the room that would be occupied by a wrathful Dark Lord at any moment.

"Tell me!" Bellatrix screeched, a mad glint leaping from both eyes as she pressed Ron further into the wall. "Or I'll throw you into the fireplace with a body-binding spell!" He could tell she was only so forceful because of Voldemort's close proximity. He couldn't help but taunt her, or rather the whole room for that matter.

"You're in deep shit, aren't you?"

Her reply was a rough backhand across his face, twirling his head until a cheek lay flat against the wall. Her interrogation, however, was interrupted by a large crashing sound that filled the hallway outside the parlor. A door flew by the entryway, having been blasted open by the Lord Voldemort as he had descended upon the Manor.

Bellatrix almost recoiled from Ron as her fear re-seized her, the sight of Voldemort reminding her of the inevitable punishment that awaited her. She wrapped a hand around Ron's throat to hold him, but also to allow her to turn her body toward her Lord. Lucius cowered in the corner shamelessly, his eyes locking with his wife's apprehensively. Narcissa continued pointing Ron's wand at the prisoner; however she could no longer keep her eyes on him or her sister. Greyback stood taller than most in the room, taking security in the fact that he was the one who had found Potter, not lost him.

Ron stood tall against the wall, clinging to every ounce of courage still left in his chest. He had not forgotten why he was in this predicament. Although he was terrified of what he'd have to endure, he knew that his sacrifice would protect those who mattered the most to him. Now he totally understood why Lily Potter had been fearless in the last moments of her life.

Voldemort's eyes scanned the entire room, surveying his frightened followers and the prisoner who looked a little too defiant. When he did not find who he was looking for, he turned his cold eyes to Bellatrix, the one who had called him through the Dark Mark. "Where's Potter?" He asked needlessly, the fear upon his servant's face being answer enough. He let out a blood-curdling scream of indescribable anger.

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Harry felt himself fall to the ground, the impact cushioned by what felt like sand. He immediately shot up, looking around at the group that was joining him to make sure they were all out of danger. The smell of sea salt entered his nostrils, so he was sure that they must have reached the right destination. Also, he heard Dean and Luna calling his name loudly as they ran forward to help the group. His eyes scanned the people scatter at his feet, still recovering from their trip through an uncomfortable vacuum. Griphook was still clinging to the Sword of Griffindor, having rolled a few feet away from the others upon landing. Dobby lay the closest to Harry's feet, shaking his head to make his ears flap as sand rained down from his scalp. Harry found Hermione next to him as well, for he had grabbed one of her arms during the Apparition. She was slumped against the ground, having apparently landing this way. She was still unconscious, so Harry immediately dropped to his knees beside her.

"Dean! Luna! Hermione's hurt. Get Bill, please!" He distantly heard Luna calling out for Bill as he checking his friend's pulse. She was still alive, but not well. "Dobby! Please get her some water. It might wake her up."

"Certainly, Harry Potter," the elf bowed, running toward the cottage as Bill suddenly dropped beside Harry.

"What happened?"

Harry's mind halted anything he was about to say, reminding himself that he could not tell Bill the truth without revealing the mission Dumbledore had left him and his friends. But before he even had the chance to think of an alternate explanation, he noticed the absence of a certain redhead by Hermione's side.

"Where's Ron?" He looked around for his friend fearfully, knowing that if the redhead was not by Hermione's side right now he was probably hurt as well. However, Harry saw no sign of his best friend among the crowd forming around him. "Where's Ron?" He asked again as Dean kneeled by Hermione's limp body.

"Ron?" Dean called, looking around at the people as well, surveying the beach, and turning back to Harry. Uneasiness filled his eyes. "I don't see him, mate."

"He's probably inside," Harry thought out-loud as Dobby returned with the bucket of water Harry had requested. Bill immediately began to administer this to the unconscious brunette, leaving Harry free to venture away from the group. "I'll check. Try getting her to wake up, but don't move her until she's ready!"

Harry jogged up to the cottage, unable to keep his nerves at bay. Each second that ticked by seemed to grow heavier on Harry's heart, as if every grain of Ron's hourglass was slipping away quietly. He knew that if his friend had been strong enough to make it to the cottage, he would've been using his energy to help Hermione instead of taking a bathroom break.

"Ron!" Harry called as he entered the house. "R-- !" He was unable to finish the redhead's name as a strangled cry left his lips. A soaring pain was bursting from his scar.

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Despite his earlier cheek, Ron knew that HE was the one in deep shit now. He had had to watch fearfully as Voldemort cast punishment unto those who had let Harry escape, rendered immobile with a body-binding charm. The Dark Lord had thrown Ron a look or two, each one a mixture of calculation and vegence. The youngest Weasley son was sure that the wizard was saving him for last; no doubt he would be bombarded by thousands of questions about his friend.

Now that Ron thought about it, in regards to the Dark Lord's most wanted list, he was probably toward the top. If Voldemort couldn't get his hands on Harry, who would be a better substitute than the latter's best friend? Ron's stomach twisted nervously as he thought of himself from the Dark Lord's point-of-view. He was chock-full of Harry-related info, and there was no doubt that Voldemort would try to get it to spill out of him.

_Spill. Dear Merlin. _I'm_ going to spill all over the floor! _Ron thought frantically, right as Voldemort turned toward him. Ron never imagined eyes so red, or a smile so menancing. _Think of Harry, think of Hermione, think of everyone you're helping right now… _The redhead tried to comfort himself, but Voldemort's gaze had the same effect of a dementor.

"I'm going to tell you what I wish to know," The Dark Lord's high, cold voice floated over toward Ron. "Then, you are going to give me the desired answers."

Ron didn't like how open ended this sounded. There was no "or else," making it clear that the wizard approaching him didn't plan on needing a back-up plan. Suddenly Ron felt his body slumping down the wall as the body-bind was lifted. He realized this quickly enough to catch himself before he sprawled at Voldemort's feet. He was unsure whether to thank the wizard for the sudden relief, or to be even more terrified by its implications.

"Alright, Mr. Weasley," Voldemort let the name roll off his tongue. The polite smile that crossed his lips gave Ron a horrible shiver. "First, I would like to know the whereabouts of a certain _Harry Potter_."

Ron shuddered again as Voldemort placed his wand on his jugular, tracing it over his neck and jaw.

"I don't know," he managed to stutter, the constant mantra in his head of protecting his friends helping him to hold onto an ounce of courage.

Voldemore shook his head. "I somehow doubt that."

"You're wasting your time," Ron said, clearing his throat. "I don't know where they were planning to go."

Voldemort smirked a little vaguely as Ron felt himself getting an awful headache. It started as a dull pain, but was getting warmer by the minute. "You are Potter's best friend, are you not?" The Dark Lord murmured. "Surely he would include you in his plans."

Ron recognized where the wizard was going. He was only trying to tap into the insecurity of a hero's sidekick. Ron didn't like to fancy himself the sidekick, but wouldn't deny the sensibility of the accusation. "Neither of us had a plan," he decided to say. "We were only trying to escape. There was no other aim at the time." His headache began to feel like fire, slowing simmering at the back of his neck.

"I'm sure the siuation was awfully chaotic," Voldemort met eyes with Ron, and suddenly the pain progressed from dull to sharp. The redhead couldn't help but wipe the sweat from his forehead. He was feeling so hot… he had a strange feeling that the reason for this pain was his flaming red hair. Leave Voldemort to get creative with the torture. "But that's no reason for any confusion on your part. In fact," he stepped further away from Ron, allowing the latter to slowly make his way from the wall that he had been pressed against. He didn't want to look so scared. "…in order to to disapparate, you have to have a remarkably clear image of where you are going. So tell me: where?"

Ron rolled his eyes, his fear slowly receding behind his growing frustration and the mantra repeating in his head. _Do this for Harry and Hermione. You are brave. You are a Gryffindor_. "You're really thick, aren't you? I told you: I. Don't. Know."

Before he was quite done speaking Ron was only aware of an awful pain, rattling his spine and his head and every other inch of his body that he could think of. He clenched his teeth, intent upon not crying out, when suddenly the pain subsided. He didn't remember falling to the floor, but was now looking up at Voldemort.

"Perhaps you remember now?"

Ron had barely shaken his head when the pain returned.

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"Harry! HARRY!" Harry opened his eyes, finding himself being shaken by a conscious Hermione. "You were yelling," she reported, looking into his eyes, concerned.

Harry was still in shock from what he had seen through Voldemort's mind. He was torn between reporting this to Hermione and the concern he had for her condition. She looked horrible, and obviously should not be overexcited after being tortured, but he knew he could never keep this from her.

"Voldemort's got Ron."

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Ok then! Give me some feedback please! Is there anything that you would like to be included later? I don't care how specific, lol. I just know how annoying it is to search for hours on fanfiction to find several stories you hate, and maybe one that you think you like until something really freaky happens. I'm not a slash person at all, very pro-Ron and Hermione, and not into sexual abuse type torture. Anything else though is fair game... so get to reviewing!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Thanks for the alerts and review I've received. They were encouraging, and definitely helped the next chapter's development.

Once again I don't own anything.

I found a mistake that I made in the last chapter. I had forgotten that Voldemort's name is taboo at this point. From now on he will be addressed as You-Know-Who.  
Also, there isn't much Ron in this one, but I had to move the other half of the story along. I promise there will be much more in the next chapter!

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"What do you MEAN he's got Ron?!" Hermione said shrilly, her face going even whiter than it had been under Bellatrix's curse.

"I saw it, Hermione," Harry explained, still grasping at his scar. The painful memory of Voldemort using such cruel torture on his best friend could not be easily erased. Everytime he blinked he could see the redhead, desperately holding on to every ounce of bravery he possessed. Harry was proud to see Ron so determined and strong, but was worried that the brave façade wouldn't hold long under the Cruciatus curse.

Deciding to leave the details out, he quickly told Hermione, "He wants to use Ron to get information on our whereabouts."

Hermione sank onto the floor next to Harry, a distant horror in her eyes. "How could this have happened?"

"He let go." Harry saw that his friend needed a little more explanation with that, so he proceeded. "You were between Ron and I when we were escaping. You don't remember because you were unconscious," he added in remorse. "We all joined together so Dobby could Apparate us out of there."

"Dobby?"

"Yeah, I was able to summon him, I suppose." Harry also left out the detail about the blue eye he had seen in Sirius's mirror when he had used it in the cellar. He didn't have time to go into a deep speculation over who's eye it was, and he somehow doubted that Hermione would believe it was who he thought it had been. "But one of the things I saw through You-Know-Who was Bellatrix's punishment. He was punishing her for losing us." Hermione gave him a questioning look. "Turns out, the reason why Ron let go of you was because Bellatrix had grabbed onto his arm. He let go to save us."

"Ron!" Hermione squeaked in concern, her hands rushing to her mouth. She was putting together the puzzle pieces. If Bellatrix was being punished for losing them…then what was Ron up against because he was actually _one of them_?

"Stupid git," Harry mumbled in guilt. This was the exact reason he had broken up with Ginny. Voldemort would harm anyone close to him. He was so concerned for Ron right now that it made him feel sick.

"What can we do then?" Hermione suddenly burst forth. "We can't just let him…we've got to get…I can't just sit here while…"

"Listen, Hermione," Harry positioned himself in front of her, a determined look in his eye. "I'm not going to let Voldemort hurt Ron, ok? We're going to get him out of there."

"How?" Hermione breathed, tears welling up in her eyes. She was feeling pretty hopeless about their chances.

Harry felt just as confused, but pushed that emotion back. He couldn't have those 'what if's flooding his mind. "Let me think clearly. I'm sure there's a loophole." He suddenly remembered how they had escaped in the first place, and in that moment he turned his head excitedly toward the crowd still outside. His eyes were searching for Dobby.

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"_Crucio!_" Voldemort hissed again, shooting shards of pain into Ronald Weasley once again. Ron rocked along the floor, tossing and turning as if he were on fire. Voldemort only stared down half-interested, watching for the moment before his victim's breaking point. Ron stopped rolling and started to twitch, his back arching up and away from the floor, a choked grunt accompanying the motion (he had continued to stifle any screams).

Voldemort took this as a sign, lazily waving his wand to lift the curse. "Has your tongue loosened any more? Or shall I have to do that manually?" He taunted, wanting as Ron's chest heaved up and down. The redhead was only lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling as he regained his bearings. He could see his chest heaving in his peripheral vision as he caught his breath, but couldn't keep his mind's focus off of the wizard causing him this pain.

"Still stubborn," Voldemort drawled. "Tisk tisk tisk. Your mother wouldn't want you to be so rude." Ron stiffened automatically at the mention of his mother. He had been tempted to respond with a biting remark, but there was no way he could put his mother in such danger. He had to protect his family as strongly as he was protecting his friends.

"Hit a nerve, did I?" Voldemort was beginning to circle him, and this time Ron let his eyes follow. "Don't be concerned with Mrs. Weasley. She's probably being the mother hen at this very moment, fussing over the rest of your family. It's a pity that she doesn't know which of her many children needs the most protection." Voldemort adopted a thoughtful look, twirling his wand between his long, slender fingers. "I suppose she didn't realize when dear Ginny needed help, either, so we shouldn't be so surprised."

Ron's face contorted as several emotions surged through him. He knew the best way to defend his sister was to stay silent, giving Voldemort no breathing room on the subject, but he couldn't help but be the protective older brother that he had always been. "If you know what's best for you then shut it. I guess that little lesson down in the Chamber of Secrets wasn't enough to convince you that you belong dead."

Ron immediately blanched, seeing Voldemort's eyes turned even redder in rage. The Dark Lord's wand flicked so quickly that Ron barely saw it, slicing a large gash in his forearm. Ron gasped in pain, curling into himself to protect his body from further damage. His eyes flickered down to the area of pain, finding that the spell had drawn way too much blood for his liking. He turned from white to green when he saw a flash of white beneath the flowing blood, realizing that his skin had been cleaved to the bone.

"It's a shame that I have to spill pure blood." Voldemort stared down at his victim remorseless. "Well, I suppose it's just as dirty as your dear mudblood's now."

"You're no pureblood yourself, Tom Riddle," Ron's voice shook in a combination of rage and pain.

A slash across his back answered this stupid instinct to be cheeky. "That's no longer my name." The Dark Lord corrected him, watching as the redhead's back arched against the blow. "You're lucky I haven't cut out your disrespectful tongue," he threatened, leering over Ron like a bat over its prey. "But once you give me the information I so desire, I can't make any guarantees."

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"Dobby!" Harry ran up to the house elf, followed by Hermione. "I need to talk to you!" he explained urgently, unaware of those surrounding him. Everyone had noticed Ron's absence by now, and they were all bombarding him with questions.

"Yes, Harry Potter?" The house elf bowed, eyes anxious at the tone Harry was using.

Before Harry could open his mouth, Bill had grabbed his shoulder tightly. "Harry," he pleaded, a desperate look in his eyes. He still wanted to deny that anything had happened to his brother, but was reluctant to show it. "Where's Ron? Please – I need to know."

Harry sighed deeply, looking at Hermione. She was giving him the same look. They couldn't tell that they had escaped from Malfoy Manor. That would give way too much about their mission away. But how could he keep anything from Ron's own brother?

Hermione answered for him. "Harry, you talk to Dobby. I'll explain everything to Bill." Her eyes were set in her decision. "We have to tell him."

Harry nodded, ignoring the other anxious faces all around him in order to find Dobby's face. "Dobby, let's go upstairs to talk." The house elf nodded anxiously, allowing Harry to lead the way.

"Listen," Harry said as soon as they closed the door to an upstairs bedroom. "I need you to Apparate me back to the Malfoy Manor."

Dobby's eyes became very round in disbelief, wondering if he had heard correctly. "Forgive me, Harry Potter, but Dobby thought he heard you say you wanted to go back to the Malfoy Manor."

"You heard right, Dobby. We've got to go back for Ron," Harry explained hastily. "He was left behind, and I can't leave him there for You-Know-Who to torture. I can't Apparate because of the protective spells over the place. But you can."

Dobby nodded slowly, watching Harry as the young man paced. "How is Harry Potter going to evade the Dark Lord? Surely the Dark Lord will be waiting for Harry Potter to rescue his friend."

"You're probably right, Dobby." Harry stood still for a moment, lips pursed as he thought quickly. Before he could speak again the door burst open. Hermione and Bill entered, closing the door behind themselves.

"What's the plan?" Bill asked automatically.

"I dunno yet," Harry answered. "You-Know-Who's going to practically be breathing down Ron's neck." He gave Hermione a sympathetic look for his wording. "Sorry."

"Well I don't like to rash, but we've got to do something," Bill pointed out. "We can't leave him there."

"But Harry's right. You-Know-Who will be expecting us to come." Hermione looked over at Dobby. "Even if it's for a second."

"This sounds crazy," Bill began, looking cautiously between Harry and Dobby. "But could Dobby Apparate close enough to Ron to grab him and go? You-Know-Who himself couldn't prepare for that."

Harry shook his head, still aware of the throbbing in his scar. "It would be a great plan if Dobby was in my head. I can see where Ron is, but he can't." The four were silent for a moment, looking for a loophole in the Dark Lord's haven. "Wait…" Harry broke the silence. "What if you take me to the cellar? You can only Apparate where you're summoned if you don't know what it looks like."

Despite her knowing look, Hermione asked, "What are you getting at, Harry?"

"If you just get me there we can find Ron and then Disapparate."

"No." Hermione shook her head firmly. "It makes more sense for either Bill or I to go. You're just asking to be killed."

"I can't just wait here!" Harry argued, despite knowing his friend made very much sense. "We'll pop in and out. It'll be faster than our original escape."

"No, Harry, I have to agree with Hermione," Bill stated. "Honestly, I think I should go. I'm disposable."

"Don't talk about yourself that way!" Hermione argued, but Bill ignored her.

"I don't know what Dumbledore asked you to do, but apparently you, Hermione, and Ron are a major part of it. Plus, Hermione's not in any shape to go after what Bellatrix did to her. I'm the best choice you've got."

"But you have no idea how the Manor is laid out," Harry pointed out. "You could get lost looking for Ron."

"And how many rooms did you see? Two, maybe?" Bill retorted, smiling slightly. "Come on. You know this is the best way." Harry argued with the other two for a few minutes, wanting to go after Ron himself. He was the reason Ron was in this mess, so he felt that he had a duty to get him out.

"Harry," Hermione finally said, interrupting the latest proposal. "Every second that we argue this is a second against Ron. We can't chance this any more."

Harry sighed deeply, thinking about his friend. "Well let me look into You-Know-Who's head to see what's happening…" And with that, he closed his eyes and gave into his scar's pain.

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Ok, there you go. I haven't written anything in a while, so I definitely need more polishing. Tips? Suggestions? Anything you want to see in the upcoming chapters? Any ideas for the daring escape - if there is one?


	3. Chapter 3

Back for another update! Thanks for the reviews and the alerts, and certainly for the time you've taken out of your busy schedule to even read this. Thanks much, and keep it coming!

The usual disclaimer: I own nothing. :/

This chapter is shorter, I know, but its emotionally full. Also, where I ended it seemed like a good place. It's a good place to do some thinking before more reading.

**_This picks up right when Harry had decided to look into Voldemort's mind again. So this is him looking through Voldemort's eyes..._**

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Harry was suddenly looking at his long, thin fingers, only minorly interested in the form curled at his feet. A tiny spec of his victim's filthy blood had rebounded onto his knuckle, standing out radiantly against his pale skin. With a short wave of his wand he removed it, turning to look back down at Ronald Weasley.

"Why protect him?" His high, cold voice proposed. "He's not protecting you. I would have thought that you were so important that even the priceless Mr. Potter would have rushed back to your side by now." Harry felt himself beginning to round his prey, seeing that it's blue eyes were dead-set upon staring at the floor. "It's been four hours, you know."

Ron was still cradling his cut arm, watching the blood drip from his flesh to the stones beneath him. He merely shook his head determinedly, clenching his lips together to communicate his decision not to reply. "I will carve the words out of your mouth if I have to, Mr. Weasley." Voldemort's voice rang through the air. Harry tried to tear his eyes away from Ron to study the room. He had to see what room his friend was being held in. He couldn't keep watching this torture…he couldn't keep feeling the blows coming from his own hand…

_Detach yourself. You are not Voldemort._Harry began to scan the room, happy that Voldemort was doing that himself. Thankfully the Dark Lord was still unaware of Harry's visits into his mind, and it should stay that way. The worst thing Harry could do would be to draw attention to his presence.

_Wait…what if I'm swaying Voldemort to look around? If I can sway where he looks maybe I can persuade him to take it easy on Ron…_Harry thought to look down at Ron, but continued to look at the walls as Voldemort. Indeed the Dark Lord cast his eyes upon the redhead after a few moments, but Harry couldn't be sure that this was of his persuasion. He could see, however, that his friend's situation could only get worse, and that he should make an exit to report to Bill and Hermione, setting the rescue plan into motion.

He opened his eyes, seeing that he was again in Shell Cottage, Hermione waiting anxiously by his side while Bill paced in front of the window. "How is he?" Hermione immediately questioned, grasping Harry's hands into her own.

Harry pushed back the image he had seen. "He's holding up just fine. You-Know-Who's taking his time. Mostly waiting for me to show up."

"Are you _sure_?" Hermione pressed, literally squeezing his hands tighter.

Harry sighed, thinking back to what he had seen. "He's gotten the Cruciatus curse a fair few times. You-Know-Who doesn't think he's worth ripping the truth from forcibly. Like using Legilimency," he added for clarification. "Thinks it'll be easy enough to coax it out of Ron." Hermione squeaked with concern, her hands leaving Harry's to press against her mouth. "But he's obviously wrong," Harry announced with pride. "It's been nearly four hours and Ron hasn't given him anything."

Bill had turned as soon as he heard their voices. Hurrying to occupy a chair in front of the pair and stifling a small smile of pride in his youngest brother, he quickly asked, "And the room? Did you recognize it?"

"Er…" Harry thought back. He hadn't recognized it entirely, for they had never entered it during their brief stay at the Manor. But something about it was familiar. "…I haven't been in it, but the floor was stone, like the cellar. Remember how the parlor had hardwood floor, Hermione? Yeah, this was dark and stony, like the cellar."

"But it wasn't the cellar, Harry Potter?" Dobby asked hopefully. If it had been he'd be able to Apparate alone, risking none of the other three's lives.

"No." Harry shook his head remorsefully. "Definitely not."

"Well," Bill sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It must be underground, on the same level as the cellar. Leave it to You-Know-Who to go for the cliche torturing space. Sorry," he added to Hermione, who's eyes had welled up in tears.

"No, I'm fine." She said a little loudly, but looked anything but peachy.

"Yeah," Harry agreed with Bill's reasoning. "No windows. There was no light on or anything." He felt slightly sickened but not surprised by the fact that Voldemort had such good night vision. He wondered whether or not Ron could see all that well in the room, and he hoped that spiders weren't abundant...or at least his friend couldn't see them.

"Now is probably the best time to go after him, Bill," Hermione stated, her legs bouncing anxiously. "The longer we wait, the more harm You-Know-Who may do."

"He's getting a little tired of waiting," Harry supplied. "Thought I'd have come by now."

"So he IS expecting you," Hermione pointed out, but only looking at the Weasley who had stood suddenly. "I know it's the only way, but I don't feel good about this at all. It doesn't feel flawless enough. It's a whole lot of..."

"Winging it?" Harry finished. "That's how most of this has been though, and we've done alright."

"Better than alright, I can guess," Bill laughed.

Hermione was still white in the face, but she nodded fiercely as if trying to help them convince her.

"Alright then." Bill said, patting her on the back and giving Harry a brave smile. "It's time to have a go at this hero thing." The three laughed despite their anxieties. Bill looked down at Dobby. "Shall we?"

"Be careful!" Hermione pleaded, standing to capture Bill in a hug. "Please hurry!"

"I'll bring your ginger back," A very Ron-like smile passed across Bill's face, and with that he drew his wand and took Dobby's hand.

"I'll keep an eye out," Harry offered quickly, still wishing it was he who was going. He was hoping that he really may be able to sway Voldemort's thinking if there was need for it. "Say something if you think you need help. Hermione and I can still Apparate to the cellar."

"Like a codeword?" Bill chuckled. "How about if I call You-Know-Who a wanker? Will that be clear enough for you?" He laughed, saluting the other two. "I'll see you soon. Get a bed ready for Ron, will ya? You know how he likes to sleep after a long day at the office." And then the oldest Weasley and the house elf vanished with a pop.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Is it cold in here, or is it just me?_ Ron thought, feeling himself start to shiver on the cold stones he was lying upon. _Probably just because I'm underground, or I'm assuming I'm underground. That would explain the excess of dirt. The loss of blood I'm having could also contribute to cold, but I'm going to ignore that option so I don't freak myself out…_

"You are brave, Weasley." Voldemort said from above. "I'll attest to that." It would've been a nice compliment, the Dark Lord calling you brave, had he not had a slight tinge of mockery in his tone. "A real, honest _Gryffindor_, I suppose." Yep, there was mockery involved.

Ron tried to push that out of his mind, ignoring the endless pit of self-doubt that Voldemort was surely trying to trick him into. He was already lying at the wizard's feet – how much lower did the Dark Lord want him to go? Ron began to think of his family and friends, hoping the warmth of their memory would get him through this. _That's right, I will get through this. _Ron figured that his best defense would be to not even think about the long term, like whether or not he was getting out of this. The future was too scary. The present absolutely sucked. The past… well that was the only comforting phase of his life at this point.

As he lay there, thinking of Fred and George's jokes and Lee's brilliance on Potter Watch, he could feel the robes of Voldemort brushing around him and hear the cold voice continuing its taunting. He thought of the first time he had met Harry: _"You're not supposed to say his name!"_ He had warned Harry of the danger in saying Voldemort's name. How funny that it had finally gotten them into this mess.

"I can see into your mind, you know," Voldemort suddenly said, cutting through all of Ron's thoughts. "I just didn't think you'd be as…stubbornly _resilient_ as you have been. But you'll be no match for Legilimency, if I so choose to use it."

"Stay out of my head," Ron demanded, doing a poor job of hiding the fear in his voice. He knew that he couldn't fight Voldemort off if he invaded his thoughts! He could be seconds from betraying his friends without even knowing what he was sharing with the Dark Lord!

He frantically tried to remember what Harry had told him about the Occlumency lessons with Snape. Making your mind blank, empty, emotionless… _Ok, that's just what I'll have to try to do – I can't let him in…_ But he felt invaded. He felt like hiding his memories and emotions had no point. He saw his life flashing before his eyes as he rapidly reproduced suppressed feelings, past birthdays, the butterflies created by holding Hermione's hand…Voldemort was chuckling softly over Ron's head. "Don't even bother putting up a front. Interesting…You lose your temper quite a lot…"

Ron saw himself storming away from the trio's tent, Apparating away from Hermione's pleas for him to come back. He was mouthing off to Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express. Yelling at Harry about his reluctance to focus on their purpose…

"NO!" He screamed, the memory slipping away so he was looking at his bleeding arm again. His eyes flickered up to the Dark Lord, who was staring at him with great interest. The redhead had pushed the wizard back, shielding the memory of anything related to Horcruxes. Voldemort did not appear to have sensed the importance of the memory, but he was obviously intrigued by the response he had elicited.

"Sensitive?" Voldemort questioned. "Or perhaps the same gallantry that you so desperately cling to? Perhaps your only noteworthy contribution to your dear friends' plots."

"Stop saying that. It's not true." Ron met Voldemort's eyes, no matter how much like taboo it felt.

The Dark Lord peered back into his, but rather than with rage it was scrutinizing. "I don't think you believe that, Ronald Weasley." He said wisely, having peered into the young man's mind again. He was sensing a doubtful emotion in the young man. Also, a vulnerable one. Taking advantage of that, he looked meaningfully into the blue eyes below his and said, "I suppose you aren't sensitive, but are dedicated to your duties to Potter. Let's not disappoint him. That'd be a miserable failure on your part."

"Stay out of my head!" Ron commanded, but was unable to tear his eyes away from Voldemort's.

"No," the Dark Lord said softly. "It's much too interesting."

* * *

Hmmm, so what's Voldemort up to? How will Harry, Hermione, and Bill's plan work out? Will Ron ever be the same again? Tune in next time for the answers!  
Well, maybe not all of them, but at least one...

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